Untouchable
by Topaz Fox
Summary: Ralthia knows her life is typical of a Yuke: somber and devoid of physical attractiveness. Yet she breaks her tribe's stereotype and longs for a Selkie boy she can never have. What will become of her and her dreams in a world driven by appearances?
1. Chapter 1

(Hey, this is Topaz! This fic literally came from nowhere. I was eating soup yesterday, and poof, this story randomly pops into my head. This is the first multi-chapter fic I've ever written, and I don't really know where I want it to go, so forgive me if don't update it for a bit. -Topaz Fox)

(**Disclaimer: **Final Fantasy: Crystal Chronicles does not belong to me. I have nothing to do with it, its characters, or anything else.)

We Yukes are funny creatures. We are separate from the other tribes, I believe even more so than the Selkies. We are respected for our intelligence, to be sure, but what is that in a world run by appearances? Yukes are the inhuman ones, the unattractive ones. Others see us as beasts with tongues of men, because of our fur and strange features. We even have to hide our faces with helmets and masks. We are the unlovables, the untouchables.

As for me, I am the untouchable of untouchables.

I am called Ralthia, the Tulip Yuke. In my family of studious alchemists, I am the useless one: the watcher of sunsets, the dreamer, the lover of love stories. I suppose some would call me lazy. I don't think of myself that way, however…I think of myself as thoughtful. I must say, I exasperate my entire family. "Ralthia, you have a fine mind," my mother always says, "but you do nothing with it." This is far from true. I simply choose to turn my thoughts into emotions, instead of calculations on a scroll. I think it's better that way. The only one who agrees with me is my younger brother, Caliphen the Long Beak.

Caliphen is the middle child of three: I am the oldest, then him, then my sister Fyrella, a Tulip just like me. As I sit here in my room this morning, Caliphen is preparing for his seventh year away from home in search of myrrh. It vexes me sometimes that he would be picked over me. I suppose he was selected because he can cast spells, while I can do nothing in battle.

For some reason, there is a knife beside me, sitting teasingly on my bedside table. I pick it up and wonder where it could have come from. Perhaps last night's dinner? I admire the way the light plays off its curved blade, turning the delicate silver metal a cherished white. It brings to mind a poem written by a Clavat called Gurdy: _Our lives are but a shaving/Cut by fate's metallic blade/And in these circumstances/Are our destinies cliched? _I laugh inwardly at my fondness for the poem; I don't know what the words actually mean, but I like the way they sound.

The door creaks open, and I see Fyrella staring at me. She takes one glance at the knife in my hand and squeals, "Mother! Ralthia is playing with sharp things again!" I tense, ready to spring upon my disgusting little sibling, when I hear Caliphen's voice. "Now, now, Fyrella. Leave your sister alone. She's a big girl, and she knows not to hurt herself." Fyrella hesitates. "B-but…last time she…" Caliphen hushes her and pushes her aside, and I amrelieved to see myyounger brother walk into my room.

He sits on my bed and looks over at me. "What is it this time?" he asks, his voice smooth and concerned. I feel myself relax. Caliphen is probably my best friend in the entire village. I can easily tell him everything on my mind, and he just gives advice with a sort of reverence that is often given to older siblings. He never judges me, and knows the depth of every secret I've ever held.

"What is it?" Caliphen repeats. I put down the knife. "It's…Ter Van," I admit in a hushed voice. Caliphen sighs. "I should have known. You still can't stop thinking about him?" I shake my head asthe Wolfie boy's lithe image dances its way across my mind's eye. Caliphen crosses his arms over his chest. There is a slightly stressful silence, the kind that could easily break under pressure.

I rise to my feet and stride uncomfortably to my bookshelf. I take my prized bottle of pearl dust and rub some of it into my soft, rose-colored wings. My wings are the only things of beauty on my entire body, and I have become atouch obsessed with their well being. Caliphen knows this.

"I don't know why you worry so, Ralthia. Tell him how you feel. The caravan departs tomorrow; you won't have another chance to speak with him for a whole year." He shrugs. "The worst he can say is he doesn't love you." I put too much pressure on my left wing and end up pinching it. "Think about what you just said," I snap. "Don't the words 'I don't love you' give you any fear? Any pain? And I cannot simply tell him anything. It's not that way with Selkies. They express their feelings through actions. Yukes are the opposite. Besides, I have nowhere near enough self-esteem to deal with that sort of thing. You know how the other races are. They just can't picture a Yuke falling in love with anyone except…another Yuke." "Maybe it is better that way," my brother whispers. I stiffen, then sink to the floor. All I can offer him is a sad gaze. "I don't know anymore, Caliphen."

There is another silence. At long last, Caliphen stands. "Come to the farewell festival tonight. Perhaps…perhaps courage will find its way to your heart." He smiles. "I wish you the best of luck, my sister." With that, he walks out and closes the door noiselessly behind him.


	2. Chapter 2

(Whoohoo! Topaz again. This took a lot less time than expected! Just one more chapter to go. It probably helps that it's the weekend, and I can work undisturbed for a long time. Maybe I went overboard with this chapter...does it get too lengthy? Anyway, enjoy! -Topaz Fox)

The night's chill seems to set into my very bones. The stars are unusually bright tonight, each a diamond set in one death-black cloth. All around me are fat torches with flames that smell like spice. It the center of all the activity and fiery glow stands Tipa's crystal, magnificent in its jagged, natural glory. It emanates a watery aura of blue and green. Its light, combined with the firelight, melt into my little fluffy wings, turning them into lovely fabrications against my ugly silhouette.

I shiver. Why I have even come is a mystery to me. I tell myself it is because I wish to send my brother off properly, but I know this is not the whole truth. Maybe I came because of the voice inside of me that insisted there was such a thing as true love…

My father had said once that Yukes embodied the fact that love was useless. I remember feeling so shocked, then frustrated and even angry. I had shot back some dim-witted remark or other, and my father had said that Yukes needed only pleasure of the mind, not pleasure of the body or spirit. He had said that such things were utterly useless.

I could not have disagreed with him more.

As if suddenly fueled by this memory, I pick my way through the crowds of excited people. Two words flick into my consciousness. _Ter Van._ I have to find him, or…or I don't know what might happen.

What was once hesitation has turned into desperation now. I do not know why, but I _must _find Ter Van. I don't know what I'll do when I find him, but I know I just have to see him and speak with him again. I am a little dismayed by the possibility of making a fool out of myself, but something keeps driving me onward. I've never…felt this way before.

Ter Van has been my friend since we were both very small. He, my brother and I always used to play in the sparkling little brook by his house on hot summer days. In the whole of Tipa, he is perhaps the only non-Yuke who can see past my bronze helmet and awkward shape. This thought comforts me, but is it enough…?

A silver-blue blur catches my eye. I think I can see Ter Van! A kind of slightly uneasy relief sweeps over me as I stumble toward him, but something cuts my plan of action short. The deep voice of Roland, Tipa's mayor, sounds like an old bell over the town. "Will all participants and spectators of the farewell festival please come meet by the town crystal? The celebration is about to begin!"

Everyone in the happy mass of people begins to move in one direction. I am the only one standing still. Lilties and Selkies bump past me, while other Yukes and timid Clavats avoid me like disease. I look around for any sign of Ter Van, but of course he is nowhere in sight.

Slowly, I head back to the crystal. I know the scene fairly well: Roland and the crystal caravan members gathered around the crystal, comical moogles lined up behind them, dancers and musicians taking their places, and the caravan members' families beaming with pride. The surrounding villagers settle into their places easily, as if this were all rehearsed. I shuffle to where my family is standing. My father, mother and sister all simultaneously shoot me dirty looks for being late. I stand next to Fyrella and watch the festivities begin.

Roland raises his hand for quiet, and a hush falls over everyone. Roland mumbles blessing over each caravan member (Caliphen, Ter Van, Elga the Lilty and Anne the Clavat), waving one gnarled hand over each of their heads. He says something about bravery and perseverance—I am not really listening—then goes on to say how every Tipa-lander's hopes are invested in the caravan travelers. With the serious part of the festival over, the "fun" begins.

I realize I'm jealous of the beautiful Selkie dancing girls of Tipa. As the jubilant music picks up, the three of them begin to dance and swing small tambourines about. Everyone watching them must marvel at their charm and grace. I know I do. Something like protest burns deep in me as one of them gets a bit too close to Ter Van.

I wonder what it is like to feel pretty, to not have to worry about hiding your face every day of your life.

Soon all of Tipa is dancing, including the moogles, who can barely jump up and down. Even the village Yukes are attempting to dance. For some unknown reason, I feel an ocean of shame wash up against me, and I can do nothing but slink into the shadows.

The underside of one big torch provides shelter for me. I sit down and watch the happy scene from my hiding place. There is hypnotizing Ter Van, dancing shamelessly. I memorize every inch of his perfect self, then mentally slap myself for being a hypocrite. I am always the one who is against skin-deep beauty, and here I am almost worshipping it.

Sometimes I'm a terribly twisted creature.

I take my eyes from my Wolfie dream and spot my brother. He, too, looks like he is having fun. So does everyone else, actually. From the youngest Lilty child to the most wizened of Yukes, they are all dancing and laughing. I feel like something cold is stabbing my heart. Will I ever be the same as them?

"Rallie?" I jump. Someone's here! And I know that voice…yes…could it be…? There is only one person who calls me by that name…

I turn around slowly and almost stop breathing. There stands my pain and my addiction, with his slim muscularity and his long silver-blue hair, and his unearthly radiance.

"Ter Van. Er…hello."

Ter Van sits on the ground adjacent to me. "Ralthia, what are you doing? Why aren't you having fun with everyone else?" I smile sadly at him, though I know he cannot see my face. "Um…I am just not an 'everyone else' kind of person…and…" I let my voice trail off.

There is a pause. "And what?"

"I don't know." Another pause, this one stiffer than the last. Ter Van peers at me curiously, and I can't help but quiver at the sight of his storm-colored eyes. "Are you okay?" he murmurs, genuine concern in his voice. Everything is tensed and silent around us, mimicking a beast about to pounce.

"…No. I guess not." As soon as the words leave my mouth, I can tell there is a change in the atmosphere. Selkies are like animals in the way they can detect and read the slightest disturbance. Does Ter Van know my thoughts?

He regards me delicately. "Should I even ask why?" This is it. The moment I've been waiting for. Every fiber of my being shudders with a mix of gratitude and disbelief. At last, I speak the words that must come: "It's…you."

Ter Van's slender eyebrows shoot up. "What?"

I cannot go back now. This is the point of no return.

"It's you," I repeat gently. "Just…all of you. Your laugh, your eyes, your words…your perfection is eating me alive. I…have…feelings…for you. I have been consumed with this fear, this terrible, plague-like fear, worrying what would happen if I ever confessed my…" I choke on the word. "My…love for you. I was worried about what you would do or say. I was fearful that you would reject me, or worse, ridicule me, because I am a Yuke. And for all this time, I haven't known what to do." There. The words are out.

Putting it lightly, Ter Van looks shocked. Shocked or disgusted…was this a mistake? I cannot help but feel a fluttery uneasiness. All I can do now is wait for a reaction.

After what seems like two eternities, Ter Van's eyes soften. He smiles and, without saying anything, takes one of my monstrous striped hands. Reverberations of surprise and pleasure twist up and down my spine. He takes each of my thick fingers and slides his own fingers along them. "I've never felt a Yuke's hand before," he whispers, closing his eyes.

A tiny smudge of a smile is playing on his lips. "Your skin feels nice. Kinda like worn leather." I quiver blissfully. Nobody has ever said good things about any of my physical aspects. It feels…beautiful, even if the compliment is as small as someone describing your skin.

For the first time in my life, I do not feel like a Yuke; I do not feel like a Clavat, Lilty, or Selkie, for that matter. I feel purely and wholly Ralthia.

My hand is released. Ter Van stands up, and I stand with him. I observe how much greater I am in stature than he. I am tall for a Yuke, and Yukes are already quite tall by nature. Yet, in the starlight and firelight, our startling height differences do not matter.

Ter Van looks up at me almost boldly. "Rallie, you didn't need to worry about what'd I do or say. And laugh at you? Please. This is me we're talking about." He grins lopsidedly. Quickly, though, the grin wavers. "But I gotta say, this is a little…awkward. I never imagined that you…" He doesn't finish his sentence. Instead, he takes both of my hands in his. They feel laughably small, yet big as mine in presence. I do not know how that would be possible, that something could be small but seem big in spirit, but then I remember love.

"Rallie. I don't know much about you. Well, I know stuff _about _you, but I don't know the _real _you. I may know Rallie, but I don't know Ralthia."

"I suppose that's because we never talked to each other like…adults. We've always been children."

"Maybe."

There is a brief pause for the conversation to catch its breath. Ter Van grips my hands tighter and goes on, "Like I said, I don't know the real you. When I go away, keep in touch with me. I promise I'll write back every single time I get a letter from you. And maybe, when I come back, I'll love you. Love in the mature sense, of course. I've always loved you as my best friend."

He tilts his head to the side. "Although…it _will _be weird, dating my closest childhood friend." The fact that he does not mention my being a Yuke confounds me, yet delights me. I remind him of our very obvious racial differences, but he only laughs. "You think that matters?"

Ter Van rummages through a leather pouch at his side and produces a small seal embossed with a rose. "Seal all your letters with this," he says. "That way, I'll know they're from you without you having to write your name." He winks in his beguiling Selkie way. "And it's more mysterious that way, you know?"

This feels like a dream. If it is some trick of the mind or mirage of the heart, then never let me see the truth. Something—perhaps my soul—tells me that this _is _the truth.

"Come on," says Ter Van, dropping my hands. "Let's get back to the festival. They might start a search party or something." I follow him in a giddy, dreamlike trance.

This has to be the best night of my entire life.


	3. Chapter 3

(Whew! Topaz here. I'm finally finished! Yay! That took less time than expected, but a lot more work, ironic as it seems. If I get good (or enough!) reviews, maybe I'll make a sequel from the caravanners' point of view. Who knows...anything could happen! -Topaz Fox)

There is a bird singing from somewhere outside. I open my eyes a little, becoming aware of the neat wooden paneling that makes up the ceiling of my room. For some reason, I can't stop smiling. It is almost like I am pleasantly drunk, though I'm positive I haven't touched alcohol in the past few months. Why am I so unbelievably happy?

Last night's events drift back to me like cherry blossoms. I remember now; my wildest, most impossible dreams had become reality. I turn on my side and look at my bedside table. Yes, there is Ter Van's little rose seal, glinting in the morning light like some ancient fantasy. It was real, then: last night really did happen. None of it was a dream.

I manage to throw my sheets aside and walk over to the skinny rectangular window near my bed. The sun outside is just completing its rise, calming itself from a passionate red to a contented gold. Luckily, I still have plenty of time before Tipa's caravan leaves.

First, I choose an outfit from my closet. All of my clothes are more or less alike, so this morning ritual is far from challenging. Next, I go downstairs and find I am alone in the house. This is hardly odd. My whole family, even young Fyrella, often goes underground into the laboratory to study or calculate or something. Oh well. That's their loss.

I feel wonderfully detached from everything as I fry some star carrots for my breakfast. It's like I am not even a Yuke anymore. Ter Van had helped me to see that I wasn't a complete alien to the rest of the world. Of course, I am different from everyone, but aren't we all different from one another? That is what makes the world an interesting place, is it not?

I push away a pile of scrolls and alchemy equipment to clear a spot for my plate on the table. As I sit down to eat a leisurely breakfast, I examine my two strange hands. I had always thought them to be disgusting. Last night, though, Ter Van had _touched _them. _Felt _them. _Complimented _them, even. I flex my wide fingers and see them differently than I have before. They may not be strong Clavat hands, delicate Selkie hands, or tiny Lilty hands, but they are Yuke hands. They are my hands. Ter Van has helped me see through my own appearance, perhaps.

For someone to touch your skin is lovely, but for someone to touch your soul is even better.

At last, I decide to leave to see off the caravan, even though it is a bit early. I put on my brightest bronze helmet, close the door behind me, and head toward the village gate.

It seems like all of Tipa is here to send the caravan away with luck and good wishes. I step through the crowd as lightly and calmly as possible, until the caravan is in plain view. All four caravan members are dashing about busily, tossing supplies in back, harnessing the stout papaopamus, and generally preparing for the journey. In this blur of activity, the only one I see clearly is my dear Ter Van. I watch him toss his long hair over one shoulder, out of the way, and laugh at something my brother has said. It takes but a moment for me to devise a small scheme to ensure Ter Van will never forget me.

Ter Van is putting a basket of bannock bread into the caravan as I approach. He turns around as if he can sense my presence, and he smiles amiably. "Rallie! Hey. What's up?"

I nod at him and respond, "I just wanted to wish you luck on your journey. And…" I slip a silver amulet from my neck and up over my head. The amulet is etched with my tribe's ornate symbol. "I want you to have this." I hand the amulet, my luck charm, over to Ter Van.

"This will brink you good fortune on your quest. Come home safely, you hear? I don't know what I will do with myself if you don't." He somehow knows that I am smiling from underneath my helmet, and he smiles back, putting the amulet around his neck. His eyes are sparkling in the breathtaking way that they were last night. He places a hand on my shoulder, which happens to be high above his head. "I'll come back," he murmurs. "Thank you, Ralthia."

Roland appears and says a few words before the caravan leaves. At last, the moment of departure has come, and Elga hops into the driver's seat. Caliphen sits in the rear of the caravan, so that he may watch for danger from behind.

With a sharpcrack of Elga's reins, they are off.

We, the people of Tipa, all wave goodbye. Anne and Ter Van stride confidently beside the rattling caravan. They turn around every now and again to raise a hand in farewell. Soon they all have transformed into shapeless specks on the wide horizon.

I can't wait until they come home again, bringing joy and myrrh with them. Until then, I have my own life—a good life—that I will continue to live.

-Fin-


End file.
